Looks like I've been a naughty puppy lately. But don't feel bad, blog readers, it's not just here at The Spectacle. I haven't really been getting much of anything else done either.
I don't even have any good excuses.
I'm not writing. I'm not editing. The malaise seems to have struck me early this winter (hell, it's not even winter yet, so what's that say).
I could sit here and whine about how I hate my book or how much I feel like I suck at being a writer right now, but no one wants to see that - including myself. Blahdy blah blah blah. Bleh.
And that's where I'm at - bleh. I'm thoroughly unmotivated right now. The only post I've managed to write was that ranty one yesterday that accidentally got published that I'm not even sure I want to see the light of day. (If you saw it for the brief time it was out there, I apologize. It wasn't ready for prime time.)
Anyway, now's the time to talk amongst yourselves. You'll still see me at Killer Chicks because I'm committed to holding up my end of the blog there. I don't know how much you'll see me here or at The Guide or at A Pound of B.S. until after the new year, when I might just be able to pull my head out of my orifice.